


Fresh roses in my garden need the rain

by FanFicReader01



Series: Peculiar encounters of a taxi driver [17]
Category: Poets of the Fall
Genre: Domestic, Drabble, Flowers, Fluff, M/M, Roses, Taxi AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-04 21:31:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17906033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanFicReader01/pseuds/FanFicReader01
Summary: The receptionist of the apartment decides their backyard needs more colour.





	Fresh roses in my garden need the rain

**Author's Note:**

> Short drabble of nonesense.  
> inspired by the song Fresh Roses by Juke Ross

You look at the new garden behind the apartment block. You’re surprised.

 “Why the roses?” you ask the receptionist.

She chuckles. “I thought the view was quite dull and sandy.”

 “I see,” you mutter.

“I still haven’t gotten a gardener to take care of the flowers,” the receptionist then says.

 “Maybe Jari could look after them?” you suggest her. The woman looks doubtful but nods.

“Good, ask him.”

 

\--

 

Jari and you stand in the new garden. The roses smell nice and Jari sits down next to one of the rows.

 “I can try taking care of them. Then I’ll be more out of my room,” he chuckles.

“Good. You know your way around flowers?”

 “I can read some books if necessary,” he replies. You nod in approval.

 

\--

 

A few days later you visit Jari in the afternoon. It’s still hot outside, despite autumn approaching. You look into the sun and grunt.

 “There’s not enough rain,” Jari states. “And I have the feeling the water of the building isn’t doing much good for these flowers either.”

He looks regretful and sad. You pat him on the shoulder. He’s right, though. Some flowers have lost their brightness. Dull red is all that remains. Some petals are withering even. It’s indeed a sad sight.

 The receptionist hasn’t commented on it yet. But she barely leaves her spot.

“I haven’t seen Jani in a long time,” you say. You miss him. You’ve driven your cars multiple miles to seek for the rain, but it never came.

 

\--

 

One dry night, you go out in the field of the dying roses. You scream at the sky, clench your fists and raise it to the heavens above.

 “Where are you? Rain? Come back!” you yell. The shouting makes some neighbours yell back at you. Then you feel someone approach. When you turn around, you see it’s Jari.

He is wearing his pyjamas. He looks sleepy. “What are you doing?” When he’s closer to you, you notice a pack of ice underneath his arm.

 “The rain won’t come out. Even though I ask,” you sigh and fall down. The earth is hard and dry. It cracks upon impact with your body.

 “Maybe you should ask it nicely? And, eh, maybe in that strange tongue you mutter in your sleep?” your friend suggests. You look thoughtful. Again, you stare at the dark but clear sky.

Reluctantly you mutter anew. You close your eyes and hear Jari thud next to you. He comes to rest his head on your shoulder and you smile.

 

Suddenly you hear rumbles. When your eyes open, they’re greeted with freshly formed clouds. Dark grey, thick clouds. Before you know it, the rain starts falling down. Weeping. Maybe mourning.

But you chuckle. Jari laughs with you and stands up. He keeps his arms widely stretched. You do the same and welcome the new downpour. Soon your clothes are soaked to the bone but you don’t mind.

 “Look at the flowers,” a familiar voice says. It’s Jani. He’s standing behind you.

You turn around and smile at him before glancing over at the roses. They’re back in full bloom. Their petals get filled. The withering makes place for growth. The roses look redder than ever, even in all that darkness of the night.

 You laugh.

It’s a wonderful sight and you’re oh so grateful for that rain.


End file.
